A Fan of the Classics
by ZutarianNaiad
Summary: Jareth was always a fan of the classics... Perhaps it was a family trait.


"Jareth!" Dianne squealed, opening her arms as she sauntered in, skipping and stepping around goblins. The Goblin King massaged the bridge of his prominent nose. "What? Nothing to say for a visit from your half-sister?"

"Leave promptly and don't come back?" Jareth answered. Oh, how he regretted the pendant she wore which granted her admittance to his home at the center of his labyrinth. He didn't remember giving it to her, so Jareth assumed he'd been fairly drunk at the time.

"Oh, don't be so crude!" Dianne scolded, seating herself on a rather convenient and abrupt chaise lounge next to Jareth's throne. "Such a reaction to a visit from family. It's almost as though you don't want to see me!"

"I don't," Jareth answered. _Where's a good, round goblin? I need to kick something…_

"Oh, Jareth. It's almost as though you'd rather sit around scrying that human girl than have a conversation with your own half sister!"

Jareth slipped the crystal he had been holding into a more discreet place, which was not actually a "place" as places go, but that's where it went nonetheless. Thinking about the mechanics of his magic gave Jareth headaches (a privilege which Dianne had reserved unto herself for the day at least), and he didn't need to know the mechanics. The magic worked, and this particular episode in Sarah's life was rather interesting—the wonderful witch's boyfriend was breaking up with her (publicly, Jareth inwardly gloated) because of weird occurrences (Jareth had taken a formal bow at that point), shadows moving (could the idiot man not tell goblins when the things were too stupid to hide?), and unexplained glitter (which was a simple pleasure to inflict upon others).

Dianne's eyes were gloating as she sipped from a rather convenient and abrupt silver chalice of wine. "Oh, Jareth! Don't be so coy. It's not like you're the only one to have a penchant for mortals."

Jareth scowled. This was Dianne's signal to continue rambling.

"Actually, it's been a while. Really, it's been a great while. I blame the Christians, honestly. Tell people that gods have to be morally perfect, and then the entire culture goes to—"

"Is there some point to this?" Jareth asked, drumming his gloved fingers on his leg.

"Jareth, can I not visit you? Don't bother to answer, my key answers for you," Dianne answered, toying with her crescent pendant, tracing the intricate Labyrinth map on the gold medallion in the center. "And, Jareth, there's nothing to be ashamed of! As I was going to say, not many are fans of the classics anymore. Divine being—or, in your case, you—and a beautiful mortal girl… though in the classics more often the gods or heroes would take some time to romance the woman, instead of kidnapping and threatening."

"Dianne…" Jareth growled. Somewhere, a Wiseman was rudely awakened by an earthquake and his feathered hat upbraided him on assorted and sundry topics for hours thereafter while the Wiseman dozed off again. Jareth had some comfort in sharing his discomfort.

"But you handled it so well! Find what a woman wants… And usually the suitor gives her what she wants, but it's a new idea, taking the thing instead of giving it. But it had a good chance of working! I remember in the ballroom, she was almost yours. Until the mortal remembered what she wanted… But I'm sure that's just an anomaly anyway. It should work next time."

"_Dianne…_"

"But you did play it so well! Not acting until she asked. Though you did cheat, giving her the book, and the toys, and the painting, and that statue in your image!"

"_**Dianne**_**.**"

"Well, in the old days the girls knew to believe. I guess you did have to improvise some. But being able to say things like 'All I've done, I've done for you,' and 'everything you have asked, I have done' is a nice touch."

"Dianne, you're on fire," Jareth said with no emotion.

"So I am," she answered, looking at her skirt, which was indeed ablaze. (Some goblins would be eating well that evening.) Dianne waved her hand and nothing happened. "Oh drat," she said when she found no dominion over goblin fire.

"Here," Jareth offered, holding out a crystal. Dianne took it without hesitation, and disappeared. Jareth smiled.

…until one of the crystals in the not-place where he kept them buzzed, rather like a pager. Jareth brought it to reality (well, Underground) to have a look.

Dianne was hanging by her rather convenient and abrupt silver bow hooked onto a rather stout branch over the Bog of Eternal Stench.

"Now Jareth, that was not very kind, you… [content not shown to preserve PG rating, assume bad names]," Dianne said with all the pomp and valor to her cursing that any god of war would devote to a land war in Asia. Jareth was impressed.

"Oh, are you still on fire? I believe the fumes are flammable," he mused, stroking his chin.

"I noticed," Dianne answered curtly. Jareth was sad he'd missed that bit. "All this over a conversation! Really, Jareth! And I was here to compliment you."

Jareth raised an eyebrow.

"Well, maybe not compliment. But to muse. Jareth, really, you are something—Underground royalty and a mortal girl. A real fan of the classics. Now, I'm off to hunt your subjects."

_Subjects, subjects… she's closest to the ruins, and then the forest… It would be interesting to watch her try to hunt the Fireys…_

But, in the not-place, the crystal set to always watch Sarah rang warning bells to overpower a fiscal year's worth of rock concerts. Jareth brought it forward.

Sarah didn't appear to be taking the breakup in her normal manner—no tears, no declamations, now thirty second rebound. She was sitting on an overstuffed chair, in delightfully skimpy underclothes Jareth recognized (and noted, and cross-referenced) as her second favorite summer pajamas, talking on the phone in between bites of ice cream.

"_Tch. After him? Breaking up with me over glitter and his neurotic paranoia? Not making that mistake again. Now the bar's set pretty high. …What?... Hah! I __**wish**__! Yeah, my next boyfriend is totally going to be a British rock star. Huh? …um… Cindy, I could actually live without long hair and tight pants."_

Jareth grinned. "Close enough…" he muttered, pocketing his treasure in the not-place.


End file.
